


Keeping Watch

by carolej126



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4068418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolej126/pseuds/carolej126
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friends take care of friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Watch

My head may feel like it's stuffed full of cotton, but I can still track his movements through the loft. He's at the front door now. There's the clink of the chain, the faint rattle of the knob as he gives it a quick twist.

The lamps are turned off with a soft click and, with the loft secure for the night, his sock-clad feet pad in my direction. He's humming softly, almost under his breath, as he mounts the stairs to check on me for the umpteenth time today.

I open my eyes when he arrives at the top of the staircase, smiling when he leans over me, squinting a little to try to make out my features in the subdued light.

"Jim?" he whispers. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah," I croak back, wincing at the pain that one word invokes.

"Shhh." He shakes his head in fond exasperation. "Don't try to talk."

I won't do it again, believe me. That hurt too much.

He rests one hand on my shoulder, squeezing softly, as he raises the other, setting it lightly on my cheek. His touch reminds me of the way my mom used to check for a fever when I was a kid.

"Your fever's still a little high, but it's not as bad as it was."

I nod my head in agreement. The raging fire that had swept through me, draining my energy and leaving me shaking with chills, had finally subsided only a few hours before.

"So I think you're through the worst of it." His fingers gently stroke my forehead. "Bet you still feel pretty crappy, though."

Crappy doesn't even begin to come close, but compared to earlier today when my temperature reached 103 and I was coughing so hard every breath was a fight, I'm definitely feeling better.

"How about if you take a couple more of these?" he asks, holding up the bottle of ibuprofen. "It will take care of that sore throat." When I nod, he twists off the cap and shakes two tablets into my hand before handing me a cup of water.

Somehow, I manage to get the medication down, but I'm grimacing in pain again, this time from the simple act of swallowing.

"Sorry," he says sympathetically, taking the cup from my hand and placing it back on the bedside table.

I summon up a faint smile to reassure him.

"I'm heading for bed," he says, leaning closer over me, "but if you need me..." He stops and takes on a stern expression. "If you need me, you call me."

He means it. The phrase "Blessed Protector", bantered between us during the early days of our friendship, doesn't even come close to describing his role over the past few days. He's already stocked my bedside with enough tissue, water, vitamin C tablets, ibuprofen, and sore throat lozenges to last a week, but he'll provide more if I need it. And, more important to my heart and soul, he'll willingly sit by my side, keeping watch, if I ask him to.

Not wanting to chance speaking another word, I simply nod my compliance.

He looks down at me, his eyes soft and his lips quirked in a small smile. "Night, Jim," he whispers.

I shakily raise my hand to ruffle his curls. He rolls his eyes in mock-indignation and captures my hand, but I know he understands the affection behind the action.

"I'll check on you again in a couple hours." He squeezes my fingers in his own before letting go.

I follow the sound of his footfalls down the staircase and into his room. When I hear the rustle of bedclothes below me, I close my eyes, the care and concern of my friend filling me with warmth as I drift off to sleep.

~end~


End file.
